


Escape

by klutzyslutzy



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Dark, Depression, Eating Disorder, Forced Pregnancy, Gen, Good Friends, Miscarriage, Rape, Suicide Themes, Torture, abusive realtionship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-08 05:47:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12858060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klutzyslutzy/pseuds/klutzyslutzy
Summary: After you are rescued from an abduction, there are some discrepancies with your injuries. Breaking a trauma bond can be a long and difficult process for everyone involved.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has some dark themes. I have tried to tag everything I can thing of, but I wanted to post this just in case. Because this is more of a reader-insert type fic, so be wary if you would be uncomfortable with "you" doing and experiencing trauma such as abuse.

You’ve stopped trying to scream and struggle against your bindings. They’ve been at this for days now. The beatings. The rape. The starvation. The psychological torture. By now, half of your team is dead, your screams made sure of that. That’s what kept you from yelling and trying to escape. With each defiant act, they killed another member of the only family you had: your team. At this time, you only knew that they killed four. It was too painful to wonder who was still alive and who you had killed. Had your screams torn JJ away from her family? Or Hotch from Jack? Gideon had both been like a father to you; had you killed him? Or perhaps you took away Reid’s life before he had even had a chance to live it. After all, he was only 25, like you. Or maybe your actions had killed a protector like Morgan. Maybe the light of hope that was Garcia had been put out. Your dehydration prevented you from shedding any more tears, although the sobs still racked through you when you thought about your team for too long.

You look around the room in the abandoned hotel where three men have held you captive. Pale walls with nondescript paintings on them, just like any other motel room. You wondered which of your friends were on the other side of the wall, suffering the same brutal fate. Or maybe they were already rotting, long dead because of you. Looking down at the old carpeting, you see your blood dripping on the floor, from the head wound you suffered when they subdued you. Your body aches from the beatings the electrical burns they’ve put you through. Looking down at your naked body, your  stomach is like a painting of blue and purple splotches. Your inner thighs were smeared with blood from the sexual assaults that you had experienced multiple times a day.

You hear the door open and close, too tired to look up at who was there. Hearing the familiar unzipping of pants, you brace yourself for the rape you are familiar with in this room. _Block it out_ you think, trying to dissociate from the horror. Soon you feel the pushing of your knees apart, and the burning between your legs. The other male in the room takes out the cattle prod and zaps in against your hip. You are silent, but jolt up. Knowing the punishment for this, you brace yourself for a smack across the face. The rapist continues to thrust in and out of you. This time, however, the assault ends quickly. Far more quickly than you have come to experience. This makes you pull yourself back into reality, trying to comprehend.

“Do you hear that?” yelled the man between your legs. He quickly left you and zipped back up his pants.

The door opens and closes quickly again. Another one of your attackers had entered the room. “It’s the Feds! They’re on the other side of the hotel knocking down doors! Quick! Get rid of her before the bitch can ID us!”

You felt your jaw being pushed open and pills being poured into your mouth. You shook your head, trying to loosen the hold on your head. A large hand covered your mouth and nose. In an effort to gasp for air you swallowed the pharmaceuticals, gagging. This happened twice more before everything became hazy and you eyelids became so heavy you couldn’t keep them open any longer.

 

…

 

Gideon had been the one to kick down the door of the room that had been your personal hell for the past week. All three unsubs had tried charging the door. Gideon quickly fired 3 fatal shots before they could subdue him. Quickly, he made his way over to you, trying to assess the situation. On the floor beneath you were pill and beer bottles. He grabbed your face trying to shake you awake. Your breathing shallowed and your heart rate dipped. This caused him to panic. He let go of you and shuffled around in his pockets until he produced a pocket knife. He swiftly cut your bounds and pulled you into the motel bathroom.

He turned on the cold water in the shower and pulled you on top of him in the tub, hoping the shock of the cold would bring you to. Gripping your torso tight, he took his other hand and brought it to your mouth, shoving his fingers down your throat to induce vomiting. You garbled and gagged until you covered the both of you in a white, foamy vomit.

Your eyes started to flutter open to look up at Gideon. This small indication of life sent mild relief through his body. In the hallway, the rest of the team was yelling his name, trying to find the source of the gunshots.

“In here! Suspects dead! We need a medic!” Gideon indicated.

 You were still sputtering and coughing. Unable to make much sense out of the situation, you drifted in and out of consciousness. Soon the whole team was in the small bathroom, looking down at you and Gideon. Some faces showed relief of seeing you alive. Other showed horror and sadness at how marked up your naked body was, swimming in bathwater that contained dirt, vomit, and blood. The rest just showed the anger they were feeling towards the men who did this to you.

Throughout the commotion, you could only register one thing: your team. They were all there and unhurt. The men who did this to you never had them; your screams didn’t cause their deaths. The unsubs had lied to you. This relief calmed you down enough to let your drift back into sleep just as the EMTs arrived.


	2. Chapter 2

You woke up in the hospital two days later. The bright lights were an assault on your eyes and the smell of disinfectant reached your nose. Looking around, the room was empty, but the coffee cups set throughout the room showed that this was not the usual. The beeping of your heart rate monitor must of spiked when you woke up because someone outside must have noticed the change and opened the door.

JJ, Morgan, and Reid walked in, looks of delight in seeing you awake spread across their faces.

“Look who’s up!” JJ said, walking over to hug you. When you reach out, you see your arm has been placed in a cast. You don’t remember the unsubs breaking any bones, but your confusion declines when JJ’s embrace was replaced by Morgan’s, and then Reid’s. Feeling their warmth, along with their familiar smells calmed you. It was more proof that they were alive and okay.

“Where is everyone else? Hotch and Gideon?” you asked, noticing the absences.

“The doctor wanted to speak with them,” Reid answered.

The four of you spend the next half hour talking and laughing. Briefly, Morgan tried to bring up what happened in the motel room, but you dismissed it. “Not right now,” you said. Although hesitant, he respected your wishes and let it go

The door slid open once again, this time letting in Hotch and Gideon. They didn’t display the happiness that your other co-workers had. Hotch was wearing his usual stern expression, although it was tinted with something else. Anger? Disgust? Sadness? Gideon, however, looked at you with such sorrow, it looked like he’d never be happy again.

“Give us the room,” Gideon said, barely above a whisper. He looked up from you and saw the confused faces of JJ, Reid, and Morgan. They had obviously picked up on the sad energy that had entered the room. “Please. Now,” Gideon urged.

Reid followed what Gideon said immediately, walking out of the room. Morgan looked for some sort of explanation in his boss’s faces as to what was happening. Getting none, he patted your leg and walked about behind Reid. JJ gave you a quick hug and followed.

Gideon walked over to the chair next to you and sat down. He almost looked… defeated? Hotch moved to stand at the foot of your bed.

“What’s going on?” you asked, looking between the men, trying to understand.

“We’ve been talking to the doctor,” Hotch answered. “Because you were injured in the field, the bureau requires your emergency contact to be your direct superiors: Jason and I. Your doctor pulled us aside because he was concerned about some of your injuries.”

“Concerned?” you asked.

“Well,” Hotch continued, “Some of them don’t exactly match the crime scene. For example, there were lacerations, even though there was no knife or other sharp object apparent at the scene. Most of them also had scarring, which is inconsistent with how long you were held. There was also a spiral fracture that seemed to be incorrectly healed some time ago.”

You looked over at Gideon and his piercing blue eyes felt like they drilled right into your soul, soaking up every feeling you’ve ever felt. He ducked his head a little closer to you and asked quietly, “You have injuries that are older than just this past week, when you were held. Who else has been hurting you?”


End file.
